| The 2005 Recap |
1/25/2006 |
by Jon
|
Tell us more Mr. Wellington. Tell us more!
|
Ahhh, 2006. The Year of Champions as I have dubbed it. Took me about a month to get used to this opportunity soaked year. I also had to take some quiet Jon time. Usually this means jerking-off, eating a sandwich and passing out in an embarrassing position. But this, 2006, was a time for change and I really took the opportunity to think about the life lessons I learned this previous year. Indeed I learned a lot, but boiled it down to the most important things that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
Lesson 1: You can’t yell at girls.
All my fucking life I have been nice to girls. Sometimes in hopes of boning them, many more times just because I am a nice man. It seems all the bullshit would go down when you are younger. Man was I fucking wrong! They get older, they get jobs, they get married, they have kids, they get infected with Menopause, it never fucking ends. All I ever hear from them is how they wanted to be treated equal, give me the same money, the same rights, DON”T SPIT IN MY SOUP!! All fair requests that I respect and admire. They seem to all be fighting to be “one of the guys”. They feel abused and forgotten when left out. FINE, You know what your buddy Jon is going to do? He is going to treat you just like one of the god damn guys. So I start being more real and less hoochy poochy cutsie with them, you know really laying the slim jims down on the table. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a man that enjoys a good yell. I yell at my buds, they yell at me, it’s fun, harmless and open. BUT NOOOOO, you can’t fucking yell at girls. I call my buddy a fat retarded testical steamer, and we all laugh. Say it to a girl and they get all upset and offended. Then they get even more pissed when you tell them to “shut their bitch mouth and quit complaining. Then they complain to their boyfriends (Your buds) when they realize they have no power over you. JEZUM CROW (as my dad used to say before he slapped my mom)
Lesson 2: You have to be nice to children.
FUCK THAT! I don’t like children, I have been responsible enough with my Willey Beamish not to pop a cork and make any. So why the fuck do I have to be nice to any of those little shit mongers. It’s not like I actually yell at children in public or hit them in any situation (EVEN WHEN IT WOULD BE REALLY FUCKING FUNNY). I just don’t like dealing with them, and that is my right, right? Of course not, According to everyone I have to love kids, because they’re small and cuddly. You have to teach them and guide them. Why? Because they’re small and cuddly, man, why don’t we apply this same theory to porcupines or midgets? Yes, children can sometimes be cute and useful, but not in my world, send them somewhere else, because while I can’t stand they’re toys, they’re yelling, and they’re smell. A five-year-old boy with chicken pox can still churn out a mean pair of tennis shoes.
Lesson 3:You have to get a pet if you can or at least you have to love animals.
What is our obsession with pouring our love into and all over breathing things? It saddens me so much, especially since no one talks to their cars if they need advice or companionship; at least your car has a purpose. People love cats, dogs, lizards, ferrets, geese, you fucking name it. This especially runs rampant in couples that move into together. Step one, move in together, step two, get a cutsy wootsy cuddly pet, step three. Buy a couch, step four: wait forty years and then regret everything. AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THIS!? Pets are one thing and one thing only, love replacements. I can’t get a girlfriend; I’ll get a cat. We don’t want to destroy a child’s life yet, so we’ll practice on some random animal that my partner and I “rescued” from the animal shelter. Pets are there to draw your attention away from what is really happening in your life, they are walking, puking, crapping distractions that make you believe you are making progress. But don’t bring this up at a party or anything, because everyone freaks out and starts defending themselves with lame excuses that usually involve the words “love” and “togetherness” and may often also include the phrase “shut the fuck up Jonny”. Then soon to follow will be lessons 1 & 2 and by then the whole atmosphere is on fire and you’ve found yourself ruining another party. Ah, well, I’ll be outside, cuddling with my car.
Lesson 4: Hot black haired bank tellers only date construction workers with alcohol and coke addictions.
That girl was so fucking hot, and he was such a dick. Well, back to stalking.
Lesson 5: Laughing at other peoples jokes to be nice can backfire horribly.
When men get older, they start to mumble, especially when they are half way through a joke. Such has happened over and over again with people I work with. Me, trying to gain ground and be a polite young man at work to establish his wealth, will laugh at jokes that suck, aren’t yet finished, or just to get the fuck out of there. Well, working predominantly with older men (jealous?) I am surrounded by people who mumble all the time, and when they are telling a joke, they lose me completely and I don’t know what to say or do. So I do what all people do, I laugh, snicker, chuckle, whatever it takes to move the subject on to the eventual goal: Them leaving me the fuck alone! Well it was bound to happen, a guy I work with was telling me a story that I thought was an eventual joke, on cue he starts mumbling, the words being lost in his super Mario mustache. I start chuckling hoping that it is the right time to do so. BOOM, you laughed at his wife having cancer and suddenly everyone hates you. You find yourself wondering if you should move in with a nice bank teller lady, have a kid, get a pet, and never yell again.
Fuck that, I’m getting Chinese.
|
 |
 |
|
